The downfall of Harry Potter's mental stability
by AkireSregdor
Summary: Hogwarts is now a rampant breeding ground for orgies, murder and impossible anatomical feats. If magic can defy physics, so can Hagrid's ass.


**For the lulz**

**Written by myself and Maxwell Lee**

"Wingardium leviosa!" Exclaimed Hagrid as he bursted through the chamber doors, suspending the resurrected in mid air making the point of entrance of his giant woodman stump into the broken jawed hole much more pleasing. Draco, glancing at his remembrall, immediately realized that he was late to donate Ginny Weasley's sexual tract to the Diagon Alley human trafficking circle.

The most infinitesimal spasm of the Dark Lord's hidden taint contains more power per centimeter than a freight train delivering the Dursley family falling from 64,000 feet into layered concrete. Dumbledore's collective anal fistula was then extracted from the withered man's pelvic region, his flapping skin folds nourishing the colonies of infectious growths. The nearly ancient wizard shook off balance, perching his wrinkled stick legs on top of the bed, bony wrists shackled to the headboard as madame Pompfrey scraped and severed his agitated sacrificial rash. Shrieking and spitting, his purple lips quivering unable to enunciate the agonizing shredding of his regional disease. This will fetch a handful of galleons in Diagon Alley thought little Ron Weasley, his revolting rust toned prick inserting into the wounded pocket left by the fistula. The geezer's colon capacity breached and prolapsed as the flustered Ginger shoved the exposed skin inward with his wand, mustering up his ejaculatory splendor a 4 ton wrecking ball rapidly pulverized the wizard couple into the masonry of Hogwarts, the splintered bones lacerating muscle and crushed into an oozing pile of shattered homoerotic atrocity. Madam Pompfrey scooped the remaining corpse tissue into her cauldron and departed via apparation into the night sky, dismal and torpid, she proceeded to the nearest bar to drink herself to the point of termination.

The headmaster's aggregation of lumpy consequences from his rigorous and nauseating fuck compulsion were not forcibly shaved from his elderly perineum in vain. A fine addition it would make to Hermione's deadly concoction for potions class, potentially earning extra credit and house points. Albeit, she was preoccupied; suspended upside down from a beam like a slaughtered pig in Snape's pedophilic den, her bodily fluids pooling in the cauldron below as the brooding professor insisted his egg laying fetish upon the half-conscious witch. My dastardly comrade finds his own excitement in the monotreme process, as his PTSD and anxieties concerning maternal issues do not improve with his repeated synthetic hormone treatments. Severus' testicular glands although limp with their decrease in diameter, now create a pocket of opportunity for cock-stuffing with his long, slender oak wand. The unreasonableness of his frenzy exacerbates his pre-existing psychosis, sending the potions master into an explosive dick atrophy. Mortified Hermione now convulsing from induced shock was ignored by the degenerate man, the neurons of his anguished mentality firing rapidly, focusing on the acute detail of the declination of reality. His sharp awareness of the inescapable dimension of conscious existence maddened him no further as he thrashed, screaming involuntarily as he plummeted into the blackened pot below the debilitated Gryffindor, slow cooking in the brew of his immoral project. Now they'll be late for the Yule ball.

Meanwhile, frenzied bludgeoning at the historic sub-abdominal fuck hole, Professor Mcgonagall winced at what she began to realize would be the worst act sexual pillaging since her encounter with the swamp troll. Moments before, Harry had swallowed enough gillyweed to stay submerged in Minerva's whore troth to teach her labial sponge to read brail. As the first wave of cryptic lubricant engulfed his face, Potter ingested the foamy lather and winked at Hedwig who sat contently in the corner upon an extinguished lantern post. Suddenly becoming erect with visions of clitoral flaps dancing in his head, Harry summoned his Nimbus 2000. Bursting through the window emitting shards of the stained glass into Mcgonagall's already pulpous taint, the mystical shaft had obeyed. Grabbing it both both hands, Harry ejaculated with anticipation of what he was about to do, so dastardly and violent that the Whomping Willow would shudder at the act. Mcgonagall realized the peril she was in, and just as she began to scream "Expelliarmus!", Harry muffled her dispel by forcing his scrotal gag deep into her tracheal region.

Her body now limp with dystrophy, Harry slid out, and began to irritate the dilated anus. Producing the removed genitalia of Crab and Goyle, still rigid with the proximity of dissection, Harry cut a delicate incision around the rectal entrance and began to pull. The intestines began to slip out with ease, falling in a rope like coil on the floor. Once approximately 30 yards of innards sat heaped on the mahogany, Harry tied off and cut the lining. Using the removed contents as a fishing line of sorts, and baiting it with the stiff genitals, Potter ran as fast as he could to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. There Sirius met him with palpable sexual intentions. Removing the cloak of invisibility, Black revealed his astonishing cock and slid the professors intestinal track over it as if stuffing a condom like sausage. The mentioned genitals dangled at the end and created a triforce of paternal suppression.

Unexpectedly, Hedwig came flapping out of the sky and thrust a letter into Harry's ass, it was from his mentor, and simply read: "Come to my chambers immediately -Dumblewhore" With a concerned look of his face, Sirius jolted his cock into Harry's mouth and poll vaulted into the night. When he came to, Harry was met with the cold eyes of Argus Filch; who had also bound his hands and ankles to the corners of his dinner table. His scar began to burn as he realized his fate, the groundskeeper's cat began to scrape it's rough tongue against the tip of his foreskin as an erection formed. Argus' clothes seemingly vanished and he began to finger his asshole with a look of expectance, then as he tenderly massaged his puckered exit he began to slurp on the young wizard. At first, Harry tried to fight the sensual feeling by trying to rationalize the homosexual occurrence but slowly gave into the slippery sucking of his janitor.

Right as he was about to cum into the throat of the mangy old man, Argus clamped his cock with some rough twine, creating a water balloon of sorts with the pressure of the unreleased ejaculation. The groundskeeper's cat then began to claw at the pent up cock, first playfully, but then it began to sink its claws deeper and harder into his shaft until blood and semen were projecting out of the bottom of his shaft. Harry gagged in horror and felt his eyes rolling back into his skull, but then he noticed that the cat began to grow, until it completely morphed into the shape of Professor Mcgonagall. Argus then fucked Potter's open wound until he dislocated his prosthetic hip.

Remaining pieces of Dobby's brain matter, puny in their shriveled display, squashed under the walloping sole of Hagrid's greasy boot. "WHAT IN THE BLAZES 'AVE YE DONE!" Cried the lumbering oaf, his mountainous body would be nude if not for the congested layer of stout black hairs encompassing the hulking giant. A neon green thong, most likely stolen as its bands strained against the brawny hips, cradled his engorged member. His eyes fell upon the form of Professor Flitwick's back, his fuzzed gray hair spattered with droplets of blood, pale and eerily still in the dim illumination of Hagrid's lumos charm.

The beastly grounds keeper's unwholesome face furrowed in confusion at the grotesque scene before him. Dobby's puny legs splayed to the side of the dwarfish professor sent a wave of nausea over the bulky half-giant. Hagrid stepped forward to inspect the smidgen gremlin, then extravagantly shouted, fermented bile gushing from his stricken throat coated the area. Flitwick's manhood- if it could be called that- was settled in the hollow socket that was in the very immediate past: Dobby's octal cavity. Hagrid shrieked at the appalling sight, releasing a gallon of disgorge. Flitwick fell suddenly onto his side, discernibly deceased as the foul, stinking fluid of his fetid necrosis spilled upon the floor. Prying the interlaced organic remains would require more than a scourgify to dispose of the godawful cesspools of wiggling insects, feeding on the mottled cadavers, somewhat freshly departed from their perverted mishap. Hagrid then ripped the straining thong from his pelvis, thrusting the cotton triangle into his repugnant mouth hole moist with vomit, attempting to suppress the next heave of sick. The door behind him slammed open, the boy who lived, wheezing from the struggles of his travels stood oblivious behind the bulky Hagrid, blocking the scene of carnage. "I came as fast as I can! Hagrid-"

Harry stopped short as the unappetizing image of gargantuan ass filled his line of vision. Hagrid turned slowly, thong and chunks of white slime dropping from his slackened mouth. The one responsible for this mess made their presence apparent in the form of a rumbling hiss emanating through the pitch black room. Hagrid's lumos charm exposed bits of the room in shadows and outlines, what he then saw caused him to fall backwards. "HARRY! DON' LOOK!"

Potter's adjusting eyes made out the form of two human skeletons, dressed in the garbs worn by his parents on their funeral day. Professor Umbridge's convulsing obese body was twisting and nudging the cadavers against her murky genitalia. Her head snapped up, shouting vulgarities at the unbelieving wizards parallel before continuing her tawdry business. Before Harry could utter any word pertaining to his spectacular debasement, Umbridge pushed the shin bone of his precursor into herself, yelping and disfigured, the dilated pupils of her eyes black against her pallor.

Harry crawled to the side of his colossal behemoth mentor, shrieking coarsely into the coagulated bush of chest hair. A Cruciatus curse flew from the giant, hitting the mammoth woman precisely in the cunt. Umbridge flew backwards instantaneously in a blaze of light before crashing into the wall and tumbling into the remnants of the Potters. Her shivering fat jerked and bounced as she flopped vulnerably, yelling deafeningly in her bouts of suffering. She was hit again as she helplessly curled into a fetal position, her tongue spilling from her mouth in a pool of blood, her block-like teeth crushing and snapping, face streaked with black eye makeup, glistening with tears, blood and sweat, her pitiful expression squinted and gagged. The clenched hand of his dead mother slid slowly out of Umbridge's asshole, pushed from the force of her colon muscles. Harry began to suckle on the tit of the awkward mammoth beside him, desperate in his primitive state of violation.

Clinging miserably to the monster breast in his mouth, his eyes rolled back in desperate escape of his sordid comprehension. Hagrid awkwardly guided the back of the boy's head to his manhood, but was interrupted by the bulking ambush of Umbridge. She flung herself rabidly into the caretaker, teeth gripping at the skin of his neck tearing flesh from bone, arteries gushing as Hagrid grasped at the air then clutched a handful of hair from her scalp, ripping her head up. Umbridge's bellowing monstrosity of a face was only still momentarily as the rest of her hair slipped off in one gesture, revealing a nearly bald top surface, if not for the Dark Lord's barely discernible facial features grinning in the bewildered face of dying Hagrid. The eyes shifted to the young wizard plowing a chipped pelvic bone into the shallow openings. Piercing screams infiltrated the room as Harry shoved and stabbed shamelessly with his deceased father's groin into the unrecognizable head of his enemy. When the skull of Umbridge was nothing more than shards and pulp, Harry gazed longingly into the eyes of his giant caretaker, watching the life fade from them as he stroked his pencil dick, mind glazed over as he scanned the motionless body parts of his former colleagues.

He could feel him falling back into himself, then out of the room and objective existence itself, whipping in an invisible tunnel, arms splayed in welcome of the finally arriving death. He awoke still, shaken from the velocity, looking up at the concerned faces of Ron and Hermione.

"Harry? You ok?" Ron mumbled in his dullard tone. He looked uncertain at Hermione. "I don't think it worked." Hermione brushed his forehead "You're at the infirmary, you need to rest." Harry stared up at her, heaving. He yelled loudly, planting a nearby scalpel into Hermione's temple, penetrating her intelligent bushy head with the thin steel of his hatred. Ron, wide eyed and disbelieving was grabbed by the shoulders and pushed backward. Harry, now standing up and enraged, forcibly ran his mate backwards, eyes locked together. Pain and tears flooding from Harry's wild face was the last thing he saw as the pair crashed out the window, bodies flattened and undone in the middle of the first year's Quidditch tryouts.

TBC (?)


End file.
